


fancy

by margosfairyeye (Skittery)



Series: Michael Guerin Week 2020 [6]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Michael Guerin Week 2020, Post-Season/Series 02, Schmoop, light breaking and entering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26608219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skittery/pseuds/margosfairyeye
Summary: Established relationship.  A drunken Michael sneaks into Alex's house, sex ensues.-- --Fic prompt: “Are you drunk?”Day 6 of Michael Guerin Week 2020
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Michael Guerin Week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928218
Comments: 9
Kudos: 115





	fancy

**Author's Note:**

> Fic prompt: “Are you drunk?”
> 
> \-- --  
> cw: alcohol, drunk sex. this one is just fluffy smut, y'all.

Michael was tiptoeing. Not walking quietly, not watching his step, but actually tiptoeing. He felt like a cartoon character, like somewhere out there someone was playing coordinated xylophone notes to each step he took. He grinned, trying not to laugh, and surveyed his surroundings. 

The window was locked. That was the first problem. Actually, the first problem had been getting here, but he had accomplished that through a mixture of tiptoeing and taking an Uber, and so the second problem had become the new first problem. It sounded complicated, but Michael was a certified genius, so he could keep it all in his head, no sweat. 

Michael considered the window, swaying a little. He was almost certain this was the right window, although it might not have been, since it was difficult to get a hold on his exact positioning. But he was at least 82% sure it was the right window. He pressed his hand against the glass—it was cold and not very telling. It didn’t, for example, come to life and inform him if he was indeed in the right place or not, although that would have been cool. Terrifying, but cool. 

Without that confirmation though, he had to just trust his gut. And the copious amount of alcohol swimming through his blood. Both of which were confident he was in the right place. It took him all of a moment to flip the window lock and open the window with his mind. He wiped his clean hands on his jeans and climbed through the window with what he was sure was excessive grace—until he went tumbling over, barely catching his balance before he hit the ground. 

“Shh, shh!” he insisted at the window and the furniture and a nearby plant. It looked like he was in the living room, so wrong window after all, but at least he was inside. He could just tiptoe to the right room now. He was sneaky, and stealthy, and impressive. 

Michael found the right room quickly, partly because he did in fact know the layout of this house deep down and partly because he could hear the sound of someone moving against bedsheets. Michael grinned to himself, and toed off his boots, padding across the floor on his bare feet. 

The door swung open with a quiet creak, and Michael whispered another warning of “shh” at the hinges. He could see the bed now, crouched like a boulder in the room, taking up most of the space, the bottom of the blankets tucked into the mattress, everything neat. Michael could never keep anything neat, and he’d never tucked a blanket under the mattress in his life. He smiled fondly at the sleeping form on the bed. 

Stepping carefully on his toes, Michael walked into the room and climbed onto the foot of the bed. It creaked, too, suggestively lewd in a way that made his stomach clench in anticipation, and the figure under the covers started and shifted, suddenly resolving into the eyes and mouth and body of Alex Manes, blinking at Michael with his hair sticking up from sleep.

“Guerin?”

“Hi.” Michael beamed at him, tipping slightly sideways and catching himself on his elbows when the bed shifted under them as Alex sat up groggily. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Regaining his balance, Michael started crawling up the bed towards Alex, who was looking at him with confusion layered with exasperation and something more positive that Michael couldn’t allow himself to guess at. “I was quiet,” Michael pointed out. 

The sheets on Alex’s bed made a quiet scratchy sound as his knees slipped against them, but other than that and their breathing, Michael  _ had _ been quiet. He had had lots of practice, especially when he was younger, in making himself small and quiet enough to escape notice, and even though now he wanted to be noticed, he could still make himself quiet enough not to cost Alex any sleep. 

Alex sighed and brushed hair away from his forehead. Michael huffed a little—he’d wanted to brush away that hair himself, to feel the exasperated but fond breath Alex would let out against his wrist. “I thought you had practice tonight with Isobel.” 

Michael raised an eyebrow. “I did.” He spread his arms wide, wobbling a bit as he did. “And then I came here. To you.”

Alex smiled a bit, indulgently, and Michael’s heart sang with it. He’d missed Alex, even though it was just the one night, and with good reason—bolstered by Isobel’s ability to learn new alien skills, Michael had been spending some evenings practicing with her, but it inevitably ended with things exploding or flying menacingly through the air whenever Michael got frustrated with his progress, which led to a strict rule against spectators. Tonight, practice had led to drinking, which had led to more drinking when Isobel pulled out the expensive liquor, which had led to Michael hitting drunkenness stage four and sneaking away even though they’d made a “no partners” pact with the first shot. Now all he wanted was to wrap himself around Alex like an octopus and tell him that he’d missed him on this stupid partner-free night, more than Michael would admit even now. 

“You could’ve called.”

“Didn’t want to wake you,” Michael said matter-of-factly, gleefully crawling up the rest of the bed and situating himself in Alex’s lap, his knees bracketing Alex’s thighs through the thin sheet. He grins lopsidedly. “I was quiet.”

Alex laughed incredulously. Michael licked his lips, his eyes trailing down Alex’s bare chest, and he could feel Alex’s eyes on his face, could hear the slight waver under the amusement when Alex spoke. “Michael, are you drunk?” 

“I’m  _ here _ ,” Michael said, leaning in and diving down to capture Alex’s lips in a searing kiss. Alex tasted like sleep and sun and memories and Michael ran his tongue against Alex’s lips, drinking in the sensation. His fingers danced over Alex’s chest, his other hand pressed against Alex’s neck, thumb caressing his cheek. 

The stiffness of surprise bled out of Alex, his muscles turning pliant under Michael’s hands as he leaned into the kiss. Michael loved that, the feeling of the two of them pressing together until something gave, until they melted into each other and let the moment take them. Michael had been hard since he’d seen Alex in the bed, his body buzzing with anticipation, the need clouding his mind. 

Michael ran the pad of his finger across Alex’s nipple, grinning as Alex moaned against his mouth and pressed his hips up towards Michael. Alex’s fingers slid up the outside seam of Michael’s jeans, pressing the fabric against Michael’s warm skin, before settling on his hips, pulling him down closer. Through the layers of cloth between them—his jeans and the blankets and the thin fabric of Alex’s boxers—Michael could feel the hard, hot press of Alex’s cock, and it made him dizzy with want. 

Michael pulled back and rolled his hips, humming as Alex laid kisses across his throat, and smiling when Alex’s breath hitched. “Aren’t you glad I’m here?”

“Yes,” Alex breathed. His hands found their way under Michael’s shirt, fingertips cold against Michael’s overheated skin. Being with Alex was overwhelming enough when Michael was sober, but now it was both overwhelming and still not enough. 

Michael helped Alex pull his shirt over his head, shivering in the cool air of Alex’s bedroom. Alex immediately pressed their chests together again, leaning in to suck a bruise against Michael’s collarbone while Michael dragged his fingers through Alex’s hair and whispered obscenities.

Alex’s hands slipped down Michael’s back, digging into the swell of his ass and pulling him in closer. Michael gasped, bracing his hands on Alex’s shoulder, sweeping the blankets away from them with his mind. He could feel his control slipping, the alcohol and the lust and the tension simmering in him, rising around him like a storm. Michael’s eyes slid shut as he let himself be immersed in the feeling of Alex’s body, of Alex’s mouth.

That mouth which moved away from his skin too soon. “Michael?” Alex’s voice was rough with feeling, but suddenly amused. “Are my things…floating?”

Michael opened his eyes hazily. He could barely tear his gaze away from Alex’s face—his mouth red with kissing, his pupils huge and dark, his breath labored—but when he did, he realized Alex was right—all around them, Alex’s few possessions were hovering in the air. Michael could feel it now, the tether of his energy holding it up, overwhelmed by the emotion that he couldn’t make himself speak aloud.

Michael grinned. “Guess I’m excited or something.”

“Hmm, weird,” Alex teased, bringing their mouths back together. 

He squeezed Michael’s ass, encouraging the little pulses of Michael’s hips. Alex’s fingers caressed the expanse of Michael’s back, settling on the waist of his jeans and tracing it around to his stomach, one hand pulling at the button while the other palmed the line of Michael’s dick through the fabric. 

“Fuck,” Michael whispered, rushing to help pop open the button and pulling back to yank off his jeans and briefs. Alex watched him raptly, licking his lips as Michael finally freed his cock and crawled back up the bed, cock curving towards Alex invitingly. 

Michael cleared his throat, giving Alex’s boxers a disapproving look and Alex laughed as he carefully lifted himself to pull them off. Michael practically vaulted himself back into Alex’s lap, wrapping his arms around Alex’s neck. He licked into Alex’s mouth when Alex groaned at the feel of their cocks pressing together, at the movement of Michael’s hips as he straddled him.

Alex’s hands went instinctively around him, pulling Michael in as close as he could. His fingers slipped down the cleft of Michael’s ass and Michael sucked Alex’s bottom lip between his teeth, swiping the wet heat of his tongue against it. Tiny thrills of excitement and anticipation ran through him as Alex sighed beneath him and ran a single fingertip along Michael’s rim, slipping it easily inside him. 

“Oh,” Alex moaned, “you already..?”

“I may have spent some time in Isobel’s guest bathroom thinking about what I wanted to do when I came over,” Michael whispered, grinning devilishly. “She has fancy lube.”

“Thinking,” Alex repeated weakly. 

“Yeah.” Michael couldn’t stop grinning. He felt so good, so exactly where he wanted to be, under the spotlight of Alex’s gaze. He suddenly remembered something and floated a little bottle out of his discarded jeans’ pocket and up to hover beside them. “I stole the fancy lube, too.”

Alex laughed, grabbing the bottle out of the air and reaching behind Michael to pour some of Isobel’s fancy, probably far too expensive lube on his fingers. The bottle made a little snapping sound as it opened and closed, and the sound rang in Michael’s ears, building the anticipation. Alex pressed another finger inside of him and Michael shivered. 

When Michael had found Isobel’s secret stash of lube, he’d been trying mostly to relieve himself without falling down, giggling drunkenly and catching himself on a drawer, pulling it open. As soon as he’s seen the lube in the drawer, though, he’d thought of Alex, sleeping alone in his bed, and Michael’s mind had spun fantasies that made his knees weak, visions of Alex that still couldn’t live up to the real thing, to the real sounds Alex made, to the real feel of his body beneath Michael’s. He’d fingered himself in Isobel’s bathroom with the sink running to cover moans he tried to stifle, then he’d apologized and told her he hadn’t been feeling well, and pocketed the lube with every intention of doing exactly what he was doing now. 

With Alex’s fingers stroking inside of him, Michael couldn’t help the sounds he made, the way his body squirmed, his hips rolling down towards Alex’s almost of their own volition. Michael reached between them and stroked Alex’s cock. It was enough to make Alex break his concentration and thrust up into Michael’s fingers. Michael wanted absolutely nothing more than to get Alex’s cock inside of him, and to ride him into oblivion the way he’d been wanting to for hours now. 

“Condom?” Michael asked, and Alex nodded towards the nightstand, letting Michael deal with actually opening the drawer hands-free. Floating a condom through the air was nearly as ridiculous as floating a bottle of lube, but Michael approved of all methods of progressing things that didn’t require him to take his hands off Alex’s skin. 

Michael ripped the condom open and rolled it onto Alex’s cock with one hand. There was nothing inherently sexy about putting on a condom, but he loved the way Alex watched him do it, like everything Michael did was sexy, like Michael didn’t have to try harder to be what Alex wanted. 

Alex removed his fingers and gripped Michael’s hips as Michael repositioned himself, lowering slowly onto Alex’s cock. Michael groaned as he finally slid down Alex’s cock; Alex bit his lip to stop from making sounds and still nearly yelled when Michael was fully seated on his dick, pressing their bodies together.

Resting his forehead against Alex’s, Michael took a moment to breathe before he tensed his thighs and started moving. Alex’s fingertips dug into Michael’s hips, creating a crescent of bruises. Michael tangled one hand in Alex’s hair as he rode him, moving their bodies apart and together and then fucking down in earnest. 

Alex curled towards Michael, letting out a groan with each deep thrust. His skin was shiny with sweat, face open with lust. He let Michael set the pace, kissing Michael’s mouth and neck and chest in turn, his hands clutching Michael’s hips, pulling Michael tight against him. 

Michael looked down at Alex, drinking in his eyes, darkened with lust, and his parted lips, breathing out hard with every motion of Michael’s body. Michael could never keep himself away from this, from the hot press of their skin, from the sounds echoing into the dark spaces of Alex’s room, from the way Alex breathed heavily and kissed hard and canted his hips up to meet Michael as best he could with every thrust. 

“The things you do to me,” Michael said, panting around the words, his rhythm stuttering as Alex looked up to meet his eyes. It still never quite made sense to Michael that he was allowed to have this, that Alex didn’t leave him for something better, that Alex even welcomed him into his bed, that they got to choose each other. It didn’t make sense, but he had this—and not just this kiss, or this fuck, but all of it, everything Alex was willing to give him, always more than he expected, more than he deserved. It peeled away the hard layers of armor Michael had always worn, and made him something softer with Alex.

Michael caught Alex’s lips in a messy kiss. Michael was drunk on Alex, on the sensations, and also a fair amount of alcohol. Alex slid one of his hands across Michael’s stomach and wrapped his fingers around Michael’s cock, stroking him hard and fast. 

Michael leaned in so that Alex’s cock hit his prostate with every thrust, pleasure zinging through him. Alex stripped Michael’s cock while his other hand clutched at Michael’s hip, like he was trying to hold on. 

“Oh, fuck, Michael, I’m gonna—” Alex cut himself off with a loud moan, his hips pressing up hard against Michael, pushing himself as deep as he could. Michael squeezed around his cock, watching Alex’s face, drinking in the look of ecstasy as Alex came, shuddering, his hand stilling on Michael’s cock. 

“Beautiful,” Michael gasped, tracing his fingers along the blush that spread across Alex’s cheeks. Normally, Alex would object to words like that—hell, normally Michael wouldn’t say them—but now, glowing with sex, his face open and trusting and happy, Alex just laughed it off. 

“I still can’t believe,” Alex said, his voice thick and slow, his hand starting to move slickly over Michael’s cock again, “that you fingered yourself at Isobel’s, and then broke into my—fuck, Michael—my house.” Michael grinned, driving his hips towards Alex’s impossibly talented hand, clenching gently around Alex’s softening cock. 

Michael opened his mouth with a retort, but then Alex moved his wrist just so, twisting his fingers around the head of Michael’s cock, and all Michael could manage was a softly moaned, “Alex.”

“Come on, Michael, cum for me,” Alex whispered commandingly, and Michael groaned as his muscles tightened and then let go, as he came all over Alex’s fist and their stomachs. Alex’s things fell out of the air, some floating nicely and others clattering to the ground. He shuddered as he collapsed towards Alex, pressing their lips together in sloppy, sated kisses. 

Alex laughed as he extricated his hand from between them, wrapping both of his arms around Michael’s back, holding them together as they kissed, breathing heavily, sticky with sweat and Michael’s cum. Michael loved this, too. He loved the part when they were both well-fucked and happy, where they could wrap every limb around each other, safe in each other’s embraces, where no one could make either of them feel small or unwanted or unloved. Michael wanted to live here, in Alex’s arms, the air filled with the two of them, together. 

Too soon, Alex made a little humming noise and pressed Michael gently off of him, sliding out of him and sighing happily. Michael moved obligingly, finding his way out of the bed and to the bathroom to get a washcloth to clean them off enough for now while Alex got rid of the condom. 

Alex was lying on the bed when he came back in, smiling softly and looking so, so sleepy and satisfied. Michael grinned—he did that, he made Alex look like that. Michael slipped into the bed next to Alex, running the washcloth gently over Alex’s skin. Alex inhaled quickly, sensitive, and Michael made sure to soothe Alex’s skin with his fingertips after the washcloth had touched it. After a moment’s hesitation he licked the cum off Alex’s fingers, encouraged by the way Alex gasped and his cock tried valiantly to respond. 

Michael floated the washcloth into Alex’s hamper, winding himself around Alex, twining his legs through Alex’s, wrapping his arms around Alex and pillowing his head in the juncture of Alex’s neck and shoulder. He felt calm and steady in a way he hadn’t all evening, soothed by their breathing and Alex’s hand on his back, the other twirling through his hair. 

“Stay?” Alex asked quietly, and Michael nodded against his skin. Like hell he would leave now.

“Just try to stop me,” Michael replied, equally quiet, more for his own benefit than Alex’s. If Alex had asked him to leave, Michael would have left; he’d have been upset, but he’d have left. Alex wouldn’t ask him to leave, though, not anymore—he only asked Michael to stay now, and every time he did, strands of Michael’s trust began to knit themselves back together. 

“How did you even…did you break a window?” Alex asked sleepily, pulling Michael closer, his hands running soothing lines across Michael’s skin.

Michael shook his head, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Can pick locks…with my brain, ‘member?” He paused, words coming sluggishly. “I would though. Break windows. To get to you.”

Alex laughed, quiet and low. “I’m glad you came.”

Michael snuggled in closer, kissing Alex’s neck very lightly. “That’s what she said.” He fell asleep to Alex’s affronted laughter. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on tumblr: [my RNM sideblog](https://ineverlookavvay.tumblr.com) / [my main ](https://margosfairyeye.tumblr.com)


End file.
